Made of Ice?
by LuckyBlackCat
Summary: I know what they call me. Other people, I mean. The Ice Queen. Cold hearted. Made of stone. They never stopped to think why I became that way. They can never understand me.


**A\N My first Eastenders fic I wrote late one night for something to do. Ronnie is my fave character, so the fic is all hers! Sorry if she's OOC, I tried! Also, I may not have got every single detail right but they should be accurate. Ish. I wrote this for fun, so any reviews would be a really cool bonus! **

**Disclaimer: Do not own Albert Square or its residents. Thank God for that, I wouldn't know what to do with them all!**

Veronica Mitchell.

I've always thought that "Veronica" is the name of princesses or queens. I can just hear it in the pages of a story book "...and Princess Veronica lived happily ever after."

I'm no princess and I certainly don't know what "happily ever after" means, so I just call myself Ronnie. It goes with my sister's name- Ronnie and Roxy. Roxy was the one who first called me Ronnie, too. She was too little to pronounce Veronica, so Ronnie I became.

I know what they call me. Other people, I mean. The Ice Queen. Cold hearted. Made of stone. They never stopped to think why I became that way. They can never understand me. I'd rather be cold than be hurt. That's what I thought.

It's nice to feel close to someone. Sometimes. Then you get your heart stomped on and you wonder why you bothered. You've got to have trust.

I don't think I can trust my sister anymore. I still love her, of course I do, I always will, but trust? After she slept with my boyfriend and then got pregnant with his daughter? I don't think so.

I still don't understand why they did it. It makes me feel sick!

Maybe if Jack had tried it on with Roxy and she told me, I'd understand. It has practically been my life motto that men are pigs and not worth my time, why should he be any different?

But he was. Made me feel different. Better.

It was Roxy's part in things that really got me. I'd spent my life looking after her, and in return she sleeps with my boyfriend, the one guy I could see myself staying with.

Thanks, sis. Ever heard of the phrase "sibling loyalty"?

Things have moved on since then. You have to move on or you'll stay stuck in the same place your whole life.

Dad came back. Got himself engaged to Auntie Peg. And that's where the nightmare begins. I didn't want to forgive him, but it was hard to stay so cold. He was my father, and I had hated him for 19 years. Maybe it was time to move on. I didn't want to make life difficult for Roxy and Peggy so...

He wormed his way back in. Biggest mistake of my life was to let him. Or was it?

Maybe the biggest mistake was letting them take her in the first place. Why didn't I hold on? If I'd refused to let go, then maybe we'd be together now. Danielle wouldn't be dead and she wouldn't have had some other mum and dad, she'd have been my daughter, my Amy, my special girl...

I can't think about it anymore. It hurts me so. Move on.

It used to get me worse at nights. I'd see that dreadful moment again and again.

Where's Jack? I need him to distract me.

I strain my ears. He's humming tunelessly to the radio, quietly. He thinks I'm still asleep. How sweet.

He dashed all the way to the airport to stop me from leaving. I've heard the whole story three times now, from running out of petrol, to begging a lift off Charlie, to asking a favour from the woman on the counter, to spontaneously announcing he loves me through a microphone, anything to get me to stay.

No-one's ever done that for me, before. It took some of the pain away. I have never been so touched by a gesture from another person. At least someone loves me. Someone wants me.

After trashing the Queen Vic on that day, I had yet another unpleasant encounter with one Phil Mitchell, sloshed.

I'd gone to the christening drunk, but for God's sake I didn't keep trying to cop off with Sean, why can't she leave him alone? Finding my sister with Jack yet again was both confusing and heartbreaking.

I was seriously considering it for a second. Killing myself. I was in so much pain, and I just wanted it all to stop. Then the oaf called Phil stumbled in, waving his vodka bottle. He made me see it was the wrong decision. Phil saved my life, in a funny way. You won't catch me telling anyone though, and he probably won't remember. He drunkenly waved me off to the airport. Why can't he just get a grip?

Next time I saw him, he was drunker than ever.

"S'alright Ron," he slurred. "Told Roxy a big gust a wind destroyed the stuff. Everyfin is jusss fine." He then stumbled off, either to get another drink or be sick. I can't decide which is more disgusting. At least I'm not like Phil.

Jack peeks into the room, and when he sees I'm awake he produces a plate of croissants. He mucks about with a French accent.

"For you, madame. Oui, c'est bon!" Then he looks at me, reading me. I don't know how he does it. I'm finding it increasingly hard to hide my feelings.

"You shouldn't be thinking so hard in the morning," he says, kissing me.

"I'm not," I tell him. "What's that?"

"Breakfast in bed,"

"You'll mess up the sheets," I scold, but I'm smiling.

Croissant kisses. I've learnt to enjoy happiness while it lasts.

Maybe Jack and Roxy and Amy will be able to fix the hole in my heart where my daughter should be. They are the ones giving me the hope and strength to keep fighting for my happily ever after.


End file.
